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Simple ―
that's the word most often
used to describe the 1950s ― when we were all kids
in Oceanside, New York. Everyone knows when we were in school together, things were
not so complicated as they are today.
Despite the Cold War, the threat of Communism
looming over us and the related shameful and paranoid hysteria in America that
was McCarthyism, the beginnings of a violent civil rights movement in the South,
and a problem with juvenile delinquency in our cities, the times
were, in general, marked with a sense of optimism, prosperity and overall well-being for most
of us ― and simplicity.
According to Pulitzer Prize winning journalist and acclaimed historian, David
Halberstam (widely believed to be America's leading authority on the 1950s),
"In
that era of general good will and expanding affluence, few Americans doubted the
essential goodness of their society.¼ They
were optimistic about the future."
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In no way and at no time was the
emphasis on style more apparent
than when our roads were ruled
by those cool, chrome-plated
dinosaurs ― in
cool colors like turquoise and pink
with a host of new "power"
features
and
decked with enormous fins
and, of course, the chrome ―
lots and lots of chrome.
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They were
huge cars that
got
lower,
longer,
wider,
faster
and
(of course)
cooler
every year. And it was always
so
exciting awaiting the dramatically changed, new models unveiled each fall.
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"Those
were the days, my friend
We thought they'd never end
We'd sing and dance forever and a day
We'd live the life we choose
We'd fight and never lose
For we were young and sure to have our way.
La la, la la, la la, la la, la la, la la
Those were the days, oh yes, those were the days."
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From our point of
view, those certainly were the days, my friend — the
best days ever to be in high school in America. And we
thought they'd never end. No other time has been so
closely identified with — and fondly remembered for —
its teenage experience and culture. We were asserting a
new independence and engaging in our own revolution, the
teenage revolution, from which the world has never
recovered.
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 For the first time in history, we, the
teenagers, had some money to spend, we had our own
hairstyles,
 fashions, movies and TV shows, and our own cars 
(we were
so  ).
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  And
most significant of all, we had
our very own
music,
and like the times that produced it, it was much simpler music
than our kids have today
—
and much,
much more fun!
This brand, spanking new and vibrant music
of ours —
rock 'n' roll music — was a powerful force
that literally
changed the world.
It could not have been anticipated
— and it
could not be stopped
(although many tried).
Noted music historian, the late Arnold Shaw (a friend of your
webmaster's), wrote in his wonderful book, The Rockin' '50s:
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"[H]istorians
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are given to such words as fun, joy and innocence in
recalling the songs¼ simpler than they
became in the '60s and¼ made for
dancing. But the new generation was seeking to define itself through them¼
an embattled generation, for the Establishment fought the new music with bans,
arrests, lawsuits, not to mention actual physical destruction¼
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And we
were |
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, eating
15¢
hamburgers
and reading
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(or PLAYBOY |
) magazine. |
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Yes, like one of our most major heroes, James Dean,
 we
were all rebels without a cause — but all
we really wanted to do was have fun.
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And
did we ever!! |
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Click on any of the following links for a trip down
Memory Lane, U.S.A. Just a few of the best ones have been selected, but
each has links to virtually hundreds of others. And when you are done
surfing, be sure to come back to our class site for more
stuff.
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Click here
for a
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collage of familiar |
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images from the |
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Copyright
© 2000-2007 by Howard B. Levy and
1960 Sailors
Association Inc. All rights reserved. |
, our young
bodies, like bombs bursting red glare,
exploding with hot, hormonal fireworks.
(we called it the "passion pit" 
), we explored and experimented with
those new feelings, "sending" each other as we fumbled our way through
a series of teenage crushes and awkward romances — all the while protesting
and struggling to
prove to our perplexed parents that we were already grown up
enough.
